The Prince, the King and the King
by Phoenix of the Air
Summary: One-shot. Complete.Thirty-three years after the War of the Ring, time has made many changes among the comrades. When Aragorn notices melancholy in Legolas, he asks Eomer to see what it truly is. This is purely friendship. Please Read and Review!


_Author's note:_

_Consider this to be a sequel to Over Time, We Are Brothers. (Work-in-Progress)._

_But there is no need to read that one to read this one._

_It is purely friendship. Kindly respect this viewpoint._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

_Set thirty-three years after the War of the Ring._

_In Rohan._

It was morning when the rider had sighted Edoras. The golden rays of the sun fell on the city, lighting it as if it were on flames. It was sight that had taken the rider's breath away. This morning, it was no different. Urging his horse to move faster, the rider made his way to the city, eager to come to the end of his journey. As he entered the city gates, the rider pulled back his hood.

He was tall, with back straight. He was fair of face, with gleaming golden hair falling over his shoulders and braided together. Blue eyes stared out, full of mischief and fun, though his bearing showed him to be polite and humble, yet his clothing showed him to be a noble. His pointed ears were prominent to say the least. Those who knew him recognized him as Legolas Greenleaf, while those who did not know him could at least tell he was an elf.

Legolas halted his horse in the clearing just in front of Meduseld. Dismounting, the elf glanced around in appreciation. The first time he had come to Edoras was during the War of the Ring. That time, the grass grew wild, with broken down houses and people who seem to be like the dead. Now, after the War and many years of peace, the greenery was tamed into gardens and the houses were new and well-made. There was laughter around him, as children played by the well and men laughed away as they tended to the horses. Women sat in one corner, chatting away as they did their housework. Offering the reins of his horse and a smile to a stable hand, Legolas turned towards Meduseld, and nimbly bounded up its steps.

He had a quick word with the doorwarden, who hurriedly led him inside. Asking him to wait, he sent one of the guards to inform Éomer of his arrival.

As he waited, Legolas' smile faded a little. Thirty three years had passed since they won the War. It had been years of peace since then, with only occasional wars and battles that were fought, but those were few and far in between.

He could not help but notice how his friends had slowly aged. Not many of them were still as active as they once were, often leading the elf to think he was far too old. It had pained him, but such a fate could not be changed.

All misgivings fled when he was finally led into the King's Study, where Éomer met him enthusiastically.

"Legolas!" Éomer boomed, happily gathering the slim elf in his arms and thumping his thin frame. Legolas winced at the hearty blows and twisted away, commenting wryly, "Easy! Easy! Stopping beating me with the giant piece of meat you seem to call a hand!"

"Whatever is the matter? Can you not handle our ways of greeting?" Éomer asked, his golden-brown eyes twinkling in merriment as he referred to the first time they had met, when they tried to kill each other.

"Ways of greeting? Ways of greeting! You were trying to kill me, as I recall!"

"Aye and I believe you were trying to do the same for me as well."

"I still am." Legolas replied dryly. Éomer laughed aloud. Legolas winced as the sound echoed around the room.

"My lords." The quiet voice would have been lost if Éomer hadn't stopped laughing. The two comrades turned to see a woman standing by the doorway. She was fair of face, with flowing black hair. Elven blood ran in her veins, for she seemed to be untouched by time.

Legolas bowed formally. "It is good to see thee, Queen Lothíriel."

The queen inclined her head. "As it is to see thee, Prince. I will inform the staff to prepare lodgings for you, and food. No doubt you may be weary and hungry from your travels."

"It would do me good, my lady. I thank thee." Legolas replied humbly.

As Lothíriel turned to go, she stopped. There was a smile on her face and a glance of mischief. "Oh, and my lords? Take care to keep your voices down. I have people here who are trying to go about their morning chores." She left before they could reply. Astounded, the two royals glanced at each other before erupting into laughter.

"You bring the worst out of me, elf." Éomer said, chuckling.

"You will not blame me for your lack of manners." Legolas retorted.

"Enough!" Éomer said, leading his friend to his desk. Legolas sat down on one of the chairs facing the desk as the Rohirric King walked behind it. "I can argue with you to my heart's content, but first tell me, what is the reason of this visit?"

Legolas produced a letter from underneath his travel-stained cloak. "Aragorn had wanted me to give you this. Why he asked me personally, I do not know."

Éomer's brow furrowed as he took the letter. Walking towards the window, he broke the seal and read its contents.

As he read, he wondered if Legolas knew how closely he was attached to the letter. Indeed, Aragorn had only spoken of the elf. There had been incidents, the letter read, where Aragorn had found the elf staring listlessly into the waters of Anduin for hours on end. Legolas had become distant and more secluded. In fact, the only reason Aragorn had sent Legolas with the letter was so that he would do something. And also that Éomer would confirm what the Gondorian King feared.

Looking up from the parchment, the Rohirric studied the seated elf. Legolas had not changed from the day, nay! From the moment they had first met on the fields of Rohan. He was lean and muscled, losing none of his prowess over the years. There was no evidence of age on his face and his hands were unwrinkled. His blue eyes met the Rohirric's golden brown ones boldly, and there was a smile toying around the elf's lips.

And yet…

The smile seemed forced as if there was some lingering sorrow. His shoulders were low as if it had been carrying a burden, and there was a transparency around the elf's frame.

"You long for the sea." Éomer realized. It was a statement, a fact.

For a moment, he hoped he was wrong. The elf winced.

"Is it really that apparent?" Legolas asked, raising his hand half-consciously to his face.

That stroked the Rohirric's famous temper.

"You fool!" Éomer roared, walking over to the elf in frightening speed and pulling the elf off his seat with his arm. Legolas regarded him coolly, unfazed by the eruption of the Rohirric's temper. "You must set sail! Why on Middle-Earth do you linger on these shores?" And just as quickly, Éomer let go, his temper gone. "Of course you would linger." Éomer said, shakily. "You would linger if that is what you wish. You never change your mind when you have set your heart to do some confounded thing."

Legolas looked at the Rohirric with considerable surprise. "You control your temper better now."

Éomer snorted. Going over to his chair, he sat down but did not let himself be distracted from the topic.

"Why, Legolas? You know full well that neither I nor Aragorn would blame thee if you left Middle-Earth." Legolas sighed as he sank into a chair.

"Leave it be, Éomer." Legolas said his voice suddenly sounding tired.

The Rohirric's eyes narrowed. Legolas had said that many times, but with a smile around his lips and a challenge in the air, one he would gladly accept. But now, he sounded weary. And that concerned Éomer even more.

"Fool of an elf." Éomer muttered finally, crossing his long legs.

"Fool of a Took." Legolas echoed, and the two shared a grin.

But even as the elf said it, Éomer slowly started to realize just why Legolas wanted to linger. He was remembering the past, it seems. Those were the day camaraderie and friendship. They were all different, with different origins and Éomer always doubted if they had come together if there had not been a war. But the war had brought them closer together. Their friendship had only grown stronger after the War. And yet as the time passed, they had all aged, and Legolas could do nothing but watch them, remembering, perhaps wishing, for the return of those days.

"Is it truly worth it?" Éomer asked quietly. "Is it truly worth waiting here, on these shores?"

Legolas sighed. He should have known Éomer would figure it out sooner or later.

"If you are asking whether it would be easy to bear your passing if I leave immediately, then yes it would. However," Legolas added, raising a hand for silence when Éomer angrily opened his mouth to speak. "Tell me, would you have left me, never to return if I had been dying slowly?"

Éomer halted, and inside his heart ached. Legolas was his comrade, his ally, his friend, his _brother. _He would never abandon him.

And Éomer knew he was not getting any younger. Now, at the age of sixty, Éomer felt a strange heaviness in his bones. He was starting to tire easily and his sword was not what it once was.

Legolas nodded at the silent affirmation. "So, do not ask me to leave. That is one thing I cannot do."

Éomer was still not satisfied. He glared at the elf, as if hoping that the look of annoyance would change his mind, but Legolas regarded him evenly. Sighing, the Rohirric relented. Getting up from his seat, and Legolas doing likewise, the two comrades clasped hands over the table.

"I just wish that there was something I can do for you." Éomer said honestly.

"You can," Legolas replied, suddenly grinning. "Stop discussing me with Aragorn as if I am some deal to be made between countries!"

* * *

_Author's note: _

_People always wonder the friendship of Aragorn and Legolas but I have often wondered about Eomer and Legolas. Not many people know that Eomer had died before Aragorn. i can only imagine the loss they would have felt. Here, Eomer is sixty, considering the fact that he was twenty-seven when he came to the crown._

_Do not own LOTR, by the way._


End file.
